Wings of Tavea (10 page)

Read Wings of Tavea Online

Authors: Devri Walls

Tags: #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Adventure, #magic, #YA, #dragons, #shapeshifters, #angels

BOOK: Wings of Tavea
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“There was an Aktoowa and an Illusionist,” Drustan answered.

“An Aktoowa is nothing new, but an illusionist . . .” Lomay’s head turned to the side, looking at Kiora. “What did it want?”

“Me,” Emane said.

“You, really? What was it interested in, do you know?” Lomay leaned forward, waiting for the answer.

“The same thing you were,” Emane answered through a mouthful of bread.

“Oh, yes!” Lomay said, his eyes suddenly regaining that child-like excitement Kiora had noticed earlier. “How could I have forgotten so quickly? I must see it. Do you mind?” Lomay leaned so far forward Kiora was worried he was going to topple right out of his chair.

Emane placed the remainder of his bread on the couch next to him. “Do you want me to just . . . umm . . .”

“Oh yes, boy, remove your shirt.” Lomay waggled his wrinkled fingers. “No need to be shy.”

Kiora stifled a giggle.

Emane stood warily before unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off, revealing the same glittering snake that had caught Alcander’s attention.

“Ancient of ancients,” Lomay whispered. “It is as I saw.” Nearly falling forward, he got his feet underneath him and hobbled over. Reverently, Lomay ran his fingers over the snake’s body, tracing it as it wrapped around Emane’s arm. Emane looked over to Kiora, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“It is beautiful. Just remarkable,” Lomay said before jerking out of his revere. “The Illusionist saw this?”

“Yes.”

“Did it say anything?”

Emane swallowed. “It kept saying it was nice and they would like it.”

“At least it did not know what it was looking at,” Lomay said, patting Emane’s arm. “We can be thankful it didn’t get you to a buyer.”

“A buyer?” Emane asked.

“Of course, my boy.”

“They are not aware of anything that goes on here,” Alcander told Lomay.“Interesting. It looks like we have more to discuss than I thought. I was so excited to learn of your world, I did not stop to think that you would need to learn of ours. Thank the creators for the Wings. I don’t think I could talk long enough to explain everything.”

“I am sure you could,” Alcander muttered under his breath.

Kiora frowned at Alcander while asking Lomay, “You have wings?”

“Well yes, not wing wings. I can’t fly.” Lomay chuckled. Alcander huffed in annoyance. “But the Wings, yes. How do you think Epona sent her message?”

“I didn’t know they could send messages. I thought they were just for showing you the past and present,” Kiora said.

Lomay laughed again. “My dear girl, they are a powerful source of magic, they are capable of many things.” He stopped talking and stared at Kiora and Emane until Alcander cleared his throat. It snapped Lomay out of his trance. “I am so thrilled you are here. Even the possibility is exciting. We have much to talk about. Alcander, please find suitable accommodations for our guests so they may rest. After dinner we will talk.”

* * *

ALCANDER BROUGHT KIORA, EMANE, and Drustan to one of the larger homes in the canyon. It looked similar to the stone cottage Kiora had been raised in back in Meros, only larger. It was open and airy and meticulously kept. Alcander showed them the bedrooms. There were three, each with a beautiful bed in it. They were not wooden like Lomay’s furniture, but crafted from iron. The ironwork on the bed in the first room was thin and delicate with scrolling designs. The other two were much more masculine. Their iron was thicker and designed with straight angular lines. One of the beds was large, the other barely large enough to fit one person. There were blankets and clothes for the three travelers. Kiora sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the blanket out to the side of her.

“This looks like it was prepared for us,” Emane said suspiciously. “I thought Lomay didn’t know you were bringing us back?”

Alcander evaluated him coolly before answering, “He knew you were coming. He obviously didn’t know I was coming—” He paused. “Considering he has given you residence in my home.” Stepping closer to Emane, Alcander added, “Besides, Witow, magic crosses boundaries you can not possible understand.”

“Do not call me that,” Emane growled, posturing for a fight.

“It is what you are.” Alcander waved him off as nothing more than an annoying gnat.

“No,” Emane snapped, leaning into Alcander. “It is what you see me as.”

“Emane,” Drustan warned.

Alcander’s eyes narrowed. “I fail to see the difference.”

“Of course you do.” Emane pointed a finger accusingly. “You balance peoples’ worth on how much magic they can do.”

“You do not know what you speak of.” Alcander eyed Emane’s finger, his own fingers splayed at his sides.

“Don’t I? You tell me, out of the three of us—” Emane motioned to Kiora and Drustan. “Which one of us would you leave home in a battle?”

“You.”

Emane sneered at him. “That is because you know nothing of who I am.”

Kiora stood. “That is enough.” Stepping between the two, she addressed Alcander. “Thank you for allowing us to stay here. Where will you be sleeping tonight?”

“I will find accommodations,” Alcander said. With a gentle bow of his head directed only at Kiora, he added, “Enjoy your evening.”

“We will see you at dinner?” Kiora asked.

“Perhaps.” Alcander turned and walked out the door, his back rigid.

Emane dropped onto the bed, breathing hard. Kiora was slammed with wall upon wall of anger rolling off him. She sat down gently next to him, taking his hand in hers.

“It’s all right,” Kiora whispered, running her thumb over the back of Emane’s hand.

“No, it’s not all right!” Emane yelled, jerking his hand out her grasp. “This place is . . . I don’t know. They are not telling us something. And
he
—” Emane flung his arm at the door Alcander had exited from, “is the most arrogant, pompous, self centered—” Emane stood, pacing around the room, neatly avoiding Drustan who was still standing in the middle of the floor. “He treats me like a piece of garbage that needs to be disposed of. Witow.” He spat. “I hate that word. I have hated it from the moment I heard it. The way they say it, they might as well say worthless.”

“The word actually stems from the word ‘without,’” Drustan corrected calmly.

“Drustan,” Emane roared, whirling on him. “You are no better than he is half the time.”

Drustan opened his mouth but shut it again after Kiora shook her head at him. Clearing his throat, he said, “Perhaps I should go and let you two talk.”

“Thank you,” Emane yelled at the morphing Drustan. A small bird flew out the door.

“Why, Kiora?” Emane asked. “Why am I the Protector? There is not a single person that understands it.”

“Emane, stop,” Kiora said gently. “It doesn’t matter what they think.”

“Easy for you to say, you are the Solus. Alcander was falling all over you when he figured out who you were.”

Kiora clasped her fingers in her lap. “And you would rather he bowed to you?”

“No. Just a little respect would be nice.” Emane ground his teeth, looking away from her. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You don’t think so?”

Emane set his jaw, staring forward.

“You forget I am the girl that had visions of people dying. I was treated as worthless by the people that mattered most to me.”

Emane’s face softened, his eyes closing. “Kiora, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“No, its ok,” she said. “You are used to people respecting you because of who you are. Nobody got to know you before they bowed. It is hard for you to have to prove yourself, I understand.”

His waves of anger lessened in intensity. Going to her, Emane pulled her up and into his chest. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

“You have a right to be angry. He does treat you horribly.” Kiora leaned her head against him. “I am sure Alcander will come around though. He will see who you are. Everybody else has.”

Emane placed one finger gently under Kiora’s chin. Leaning down he kissed her lightly on the lips. She trembled. His kisses were better than magic. He kissed her harder this time, pulling her into him, and her magic roared in response. Ever since the change she could not feel pleasure, at least not the kind she felt while kissing him, and keep her magic under control at the same time. Wrapping her hands around the back of his head she kissed him back, fiercely pushing at the rising magic. But when his lips began moving down her neck, her focus was torn between her magic and the softness of his lips brushing against her skin.

“Emane, stop, I can’t hold it,” Kiora gasped.

He moaned in frustration and kissed her neck one more time. It was one time too many. The bubble of magic rising within her exploded out of control. It picked Emane up and sent him flying across the room. He slammed into the wall. The wall shook under the impact. Emane fell to the ground, limp.

“Emane!” Kiora ran over to him, sliding across the floor. “Emane!” she cried, lifting his head into her lap. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry!” Running her fingers through his hair she whimpered, “Please wake up, please.” Tears began rolling down her cheeks. He was breathing, but unconscious. Kiora yelled out the open door. “Drustan! Help!” Leaning down over Emane she kissed him on the forehead. “Please wake up, Emane, please.”

A shadow blocked the door like a dark cloud. “What happened?” a voice demanded.

Kiora looked up, startled. “Alcander.”

Alcander evaluated the situation, his eyes sliding over Emane. “What happened?” he repeated.

“It was me,” Kiora said, wiping at her face. “It was an accident. Please, can you help him?”

“I can’t. I will get someone who can.” Alcander quickly walked out.

Within a few minutes Lomay hobbled into the room. “What happened?”

“It was an accident,” Kiora said. “I hit him with magic. I didn’t mean to.”

Lomay’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting accident.” Crouching slowly beside her, Lomay felt Emane’s neck for his pulse. “He is just unconscious.” Lomay looked up at Kiora. “I could bring him out of it, but he might be enjoying the rest.”

“Please, wake him up. I have to make sure he’s all right.”

“Would you like to tell me what happened?”

She glanced at Alcander, who had followed Lomay back. He was looking at her with an odd expression on his face.

“No, not right now.”

“I see. Perhaps later then.” Kiora could have sworn she saw a smile play at the edge of Lomay’s mouth. “Very well, if you are sure.” Lomay touched Emane’s forehead. Blinking, Emane looked up.

“Welcome back,” Lomay said, before winking at Kiora. Groaning, Lomay pushed himself to his feet. “See you at dinner,” he said cheerfully as he hobbled out of the room. Alcander turned, silently following Lomay out the door.

Emane moaned and rubbed his head. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry.” Kiora said, gently pushing his hair back off his forehead. “I lost control of my magic. When you kiss me . . . I lose control.”

“Why am I so cursed?” Emane moaned.

“I know, I’m sorry. You can’t even kiss me!”

“No, it’s not that. Well, partially that,” he amended. “But why was I cursed to be such a unbelievable kisser?”

“Emane!”

He sat up rubbing his head. “No, really. If I wasn’t so blasted good at it, maybe this wouldn’t happen.” Emane smirked.

“I cannot believe you are making jokes about this,” Kiora said, dropping back onto her heels. “I could have killed you.”

“It was worth it.” He dropped against the wall with a satisfied look on his face.

She rolled her eyes, pushed herself to her feet, and offered Emane her hand. “Come on, you are going to lay down before dinner.”

“Will you lay with me?” he asked, stumbling forward as she pulled him up.

“No,” Kiora said, putting her hands on her hips. “You obviously didn’t learn your lesson the last time, and you are dumb enough to try it again.”

“I told you, it was worth it.” Emane grinned as he lay back on his bed.

“You really did hit your head hard.”

“Not hard enough to forget that kiss,” he said, placing his arms behind his head and crossing one ankle over the other.

“You are ridiculous.” Kiora sighed, her cheeks flushing.

“I know,” he mumbled. Closing his eyes, Emane drifted to sleep, murmuring something about it not being fair.

* * *

AS EMANE SLEPT, KIORA slipped out of the house. Plopping down onto the front doorstep, Kiora placed her elbows on her knees and dropped her chin in her hands. The wide assortment of people that lived here were all scurrying about getting ready for dinner. They were trying not to stare at her and she was trying not to stare at them. Some were better at it than others.

A little boy with large, white wings sprouting out of his back and red hair was peeking at her from around his mother’s leg. Kiora smiled at him and he perked up immediately, smiling back at her. He waited until his mother wasn’t looking and then scampered over to her.

“Hello,” Kiora whispered, trying not to out him to his mother.

“Your thread feels nice,” he whispered back.

She grinned. “Thank you. Yours feels nice too.”

“Where did you come from?” he asked, leaning forward on his toes, his wings fanning out behind him.

“Someplace very far away.”

The boy’s mother realized he was gone and came after him. “I am sorry, my lady.” She gave a Kiora a small bow before grabbing her son’s hand.

The boy’s mother was beautiful. Large wings stretched over the top of her head and folded down her back, stopping just above the knees. She had long, fire-red hair, and freckles dotted her nose.

“It’s fine,” Kiora assured her. “Your son is very sweet.” She smiled at the boy whose chest rose under the compliment.

The mother grabbed the boy and pulled him closer against her leg. “You need to rest before dinner, my lady. I am sure you had a long day.” She smiled through a masked curiosity before gently steering the boy back the way they came.

Kiora heard the boy complaining as his mother lead him away. “But Mom, she feels so nice, I like her.”

“I know,” his mother whispered. “But we mustn’t bother her. Alcander said not to.”

Kiora wanted to call out and ask the mother to bring the little boy back so she could talk to him, but decided against it. Instead, she closed her eyes and began feeling the threads surrounding her. She felt some Shifters’ threads—those were familiar. She found threads that felt similar to the boy and his mother. Those must be the winged people’s threads. She also felt threads similar to Alcander’s true thread—the Taveans. The rest were new and different. She would have to learn them all.

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